


The Assassin and The Companion

by deanloveshimsomecas



Series: The Assassin and The Companion [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Companions, F/M, The Dark Brotherhood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8282789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanloveshimsomecas/pseuds/deanloveshimsomecas
Summary: Vilkas runs into another werewolf, things get complicated.





	1. A Strange Scent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic so apologies for any errors!

Enyo slipped out of the bush to drag the body off of the road. She was an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood—and she looked it. She was lithe, tall, with hair so pale it was white, and cold, empty dark green eyes that had once been alive, but not for a long time. People whispered about the ghost who could walk through walls. Enyo was a lot of things, but she was still alive. Technically at least. The killing used to bother her, though she had long ago stopped feeling anything at all. Once, she had believed the Brotherhood was serving a purpose, but she had stopped deluding herself. Because if she couldn’t be honest with anybody else, then she would be with herself. She looked dispassionately at the body, and pushed it off the mountain, knowing that by the time it reached the bottom the cut from her arrow would be well hidden.

This dispassion vaguely worried her, because she had once cared and even had a normal life (though she could hardly remember it anymore), but now she felt empty, and all she lived for was the Night Mother. Maybe lived was the wrong word—it was more like existed. She obeyed Astrid and followed the Night Mother’s dictates. She passed through the holds, a nameless and faceless woman whom no one remembered. All anyone could recall was the red war paint. Enyo wore it on purpose—it caught attention and held it with the lack of color in her face. Enyo was somewhere on the road between Whiterun and Windhelm; the roads all looked the same and it didn’t really matter anyway. She had no home, because the sanctuary wasn’t really one for her. It never had been—when she arrived it marked the end of her normal life.

On the way back to the sanctuary near Falkreath, Enyo decided to stop and sell the gold ring and necklace she had taken off of the body. She usually dressed in the Brotherhood’s armour but, to keep the guards off her back, she changed into some leather pants and a miner’s shirt. She couldn’t bear to wear dresses anymore—she had left those behind her with her old life. The outfit garnered her some odd looks but she didn’t care.

At Belethor’s Enyo sold the jewelry, and suspected that the loud man was ripping her off. But she couldn’t bring herself to care enough to do something about it. She could always go back in and steal from him anyway. The shadow mark by the door told her he had something valuable. She had stopped living and even caring years before, after she had been turned into a werewolf. For years the beast had controlled her actions.

She had been fifteen, and knew that walking alone at night was not wise, but Solitude was supposed to be safe. She had always loved horses, and living in the city her family couldn’t keep one, not that they could afford it anyway. Her mother was a weaver and her father took whatever jobs he could find, and they scraped together enough to put food on the table. Enyo had often visited the stables, often enough that a stable boy had caught her eye—and she his. If things had been different they might have been married by now, with a gaggle of children. That night she had been sneaking out to meet him. She’d seen a blur and then felt the burn of the bite. When she woke up she was in the sanctuary, a werewolf and a new recruit for the brotherhood. Astrid had thought that kidnapping and turning their most promising prospects would make them dependent on the brotherhood. It wasn’t until she escaped and returned home that she learned the brotherhood killed her family. When she had returned she was broken, and she had allowed the brotherhood to brainwash her into believing that she was serving a purpose by doing the Night Mother’s bidding.

It had taken her almost fifteen years to break that hold. And once she had woken up she had stopped caring, because it hadn’t mattered anymore. Her family was dead, even that stable boy, and the only ties she had were to the brotherhood.

Enyo was the only werewolf prospect who survived, because of the three Astrid had experimented with, one hadn’t survived the transformation and the other hadn’t been a very good cold-blooded killer. After Enyo had found out her family was dead she found that killing and torturing didn’t have any effect on her. She had allowed the brotherhood to become her purpose, she had held onto it because it was the only thing she had to hold onto. So she gave herself over to her wolf. And it reveled in the chase and the killing. Astrid counted her as a success and had originally wanted to make more, but Arnbjorn put a stop to it. He would do much for his wife, but turning hordes werewolves was not something he relished. One day there would be a better Alpha, and then they would not have control over their pack.

Veezara was perhaps the only one who understood her. He not chosen his path, but had been born into it. He was the kindest of the brothers, at least to her. He was still a merciless assassin, and the last of the Shadowscale. He had trained her in the art of dealing death with a steady and sure hand.  
Enyo had gained herself back, little by little, and she had discovered the havoc her wolf had wrought. She had killed many innocents, and after that she had leaned on her brothers, but they had not understood. Instead, they had applauded her for her merciless slaughter. Enyo supposed that was when she had completely lost faith—in them, their mission, Skyrim, everything. But she stayed because she had nowhere else to go.

Now she followed orders, and kept her wolf in check. As Enyo was leaving the General Goods store she caught the scent of another wolf, and then more, a whole pack. She realized they must be the companions. She had heard of, and occasionally smelled, them. But she couldn’t remember actually being in Whiterun before, and she had never met them. Her wolf stirred, recognizing one of the scents on a soul-deep level. Enyo had not actually encountered any other werewolf outside of the brotherhood, but Astrid's husband had once been a member of this pack. Her wolf whined, for the first time wanting something other than death. She hadn’t thought about trying to live with another pack, so she had never been interested in seeking out the companions.

Enyo felt a faint stir of interest. Her wolf’s insistence was strong—she wanted to follow the scent. Enyo had learned controlling her wolf was easy, as long as it was fed from time-to-time.


	2. The Pack

Enyo followed the scent, into a large building that was built around an upturned ship. She supposed the ship was important to the inhabitants, but when she opened the door a striking man caught her attention and wholly captured her wolf’s. He was a large man, with dark hair and rough features. He wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense but his scars showed his strength as a warrior. His black eyes stared intently at her. He will make a good mate, her wolf whispered to her. Enyo looked at the other wolves, Nords interspersed with a few other races, but her eyes were drawn to the man.

Vilkas stared at the women who had just walked into Jorrvaskr. She stood tall and straight, her hair shimmered like moonlight, and her eyes glowed like the earth. His beast stirred, excited and welcoming, as if it recognized her. His nostrils flared, trying to catch her scent. When he did he froze—she smelled like death. Few people smelled like that and those that did were serial killers or belonged to the brotherhood. He spoke, his words rough with the effort it took to get them out, “Get out. You are not welcome here.”

Enyo raised a pale eyebrow, “My, what kindness you show me brother.”

Vilkas was ashamed, his wolf was picturing her in all kinds of ways but none of them involved brotherly feelings. But her words angered him, and his wolf—they were anything but siblings. His brothers and sisters were limited to the companions. “You have no claim as kin. Leave before you feel the wrath of the companions.”  
Enyo smiled slyly, enjoying the reaction her words caused. “But are we not siblings of the moon?”

“I know exactly what you are: the stench of death clings to you like a second skin.”

She pouted, saying playfully “Thanks for the backhanded compliment. Telling a girl she stinks in the best of ways?”

“Leave.” His jaw clenched.

“Make me.” Enyo laughed, because he was so easy to rile.

Vilkas stared at her, entranced. Her laughter tinkled across the space separating them. The musical sound added to her ethereal image. She looked like an ancient spirit. Her hair and skin were both almost stark white. Her eyes seemed almost black, and the red war paint practically glowed against her skin. She looked beautiful and deadly. And Talos help him, that made her all the more attractive.

“What? Cat got your tongue, brother?” Enyo found herself liking this nord more and more. He appeared to be struck dumb at the mere concept of her disobedience. She figured he was a higher ranking member of the pack if he was so sure of her automatic obedience. She bared her fangs in challenge. That seemed to snap him out of it. A growl rumbled up from his chest, seemingly surprising him.

“You dare to challenge me in my own home?” His wolf was far too edgy for its own good, taking offence at the laughingly offered challenge.

“Oh, but I do dare, brother.” She knew it might not be wise to taunt him, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Very well. Let us move outside.” Vilkas wouldn’t really hurt her, but he did want to teach her a lesson.

Enyo knew Vilkas was underestimating her, and it bothered her more than it should have. Normally people underestimating her made it all the easier to best them, but she wanted Vilkas to see her as strong and able. She shouldn’t care, but she did. Enyo made sure her stride was extra confident as she followed Vilkas’ hand motion. She heard him grind his teeth and smiled.

The others followed them outside, calling out warnings. They called him Vilkas. It was a strong name, and it meant wolf in an ancient language. Fitting, Enyo supposed, for a son of Hircine.

The woman was infuriating, but not bad with a sword Vilkas grudgingly admitted. The little assassin was actually skilled in close combat. “And here I though the brotherhood just shot their arrows from afar.” Vilkas swung his sword toward Enyo, but she was already on the move.

“Sometimes a dagger to the stomach is the most invisible route.” Enyo smiled sweetly. She knew it made her look innocent because she practiced it. Astrid wanted her prodigies to be able to survive any situation they found themselves in. And Enyo pointed that dagger at Vilkas’ stomach, under his armor, ending their little game. Vilkas froze, feeling the sharp blade far too close to skin for his own comfort. But surprisingly his wolf lapped up the attention.

Enyo felt her wolf stir and went with it. She leaned forward suddenly, nicking him with the blade. The scent of blood only excited her wolf further. She captured his mouth in a violent kiss. Teeth meet, and she bite his lip. Vilkas was caught off-guard. But his wolf urged him to respond, and he instinctively went along, biting her back. Their kiss was brief and violent. Enyo pulled away with a reckless grin, a little blood still seeping from her lip as it healed. “Well the puppy does bite after all.” With that Enyo turned and started to walk away.

Vilkas snarled and pulled her to him and this time he made sure he controlled the kiss. He released her after a suitable amount of time and let her walk away. That didn’t explain why he kept thinking about her though. Not at all.


	3. Belethor’s General Goods

Enyo left Vilkas standing there, but she just had to leave. Vilkas had roused her feelings from the dark hole they stayed in and she wasn’t sure how to deal with that. So she fell back on her training and melted into the shadows. But for some reason she didn’t want to leave. She rented a tent in the Khajiit’s camp outside the city walls. The scent of cat would overpower hers to anyone tracking her. Enyo knew she was expected back at the sanctuary tonight, but she justified it by promising herself she would rob Belethor’s. She woke in the middle of the night, changed into her armor, and ghosted into the sleepy city. There were a few people about the Bannered Mare, but they were leaving, and intoxicated. They would cover any noise she made picking the back door of the shop. The shop itself was dark, and hopefully Belethor was sound asleep upstairs. Quickly, Enyo made for the gold behind the counter, swiping a few necklaces and rings. She took nothing identifiable—in addition to her skills as an assassin she was quite an accomplished thief; she knew exactly what she was doing.

Vilkas was leaving the Bannered Mare when his wolf’s attention was caught by her scent. Until that moment he hadn’t realized he didn’t know her name. This was a fresh scent, and he knew that she couldn’t be doing anything good at this hour. He tracked her to Belethor’s back door, which was ajar—of course. Slowly, he eased into the shop.

Enyo knew the second Vilkas came to the door. He held all of her wolf’s attention, making it harder for her to focus, but she knew she had to think fast. She thought Vilkas might frown on stealing, even if it was from a slimy bastard. She shoved the last of the loot into her bag, and then quietly hissed, “What are you doing here?”

“Me? I’m not the one stealing. Assassin is bad enough but you have to add thief to that? Now I’ll have to turn you over to the guards.”

“So thief is what makes you draw the line? I think your morals are a little mixed up.” Enyo was not going to let that happen. Bad things tended to happen to the people in her line of work who were caught. So she did the only thing she could. Thinking fast, Enyo Slipped a few coins into her pocket (who would miss them?), blew Vilkas a kiss and tossed him the bag and as he reflectively caught it she sent a bowl crashing to the floor and slipped out the back door—all before Vilkas had time to react. She heard Belethor shout for help from the guards as she started to climb the wall that surrounded Whiterun. She sprinted around the wall back to the Khajiit camp.

She ducked into the tent she had rented for the night, ignoring the raised eyebrows. She threw the coins she had taken out of the tent, knowing the Khajiit owed no loyalty to the city. Enyo decided to wait until morning, as any movement now would draw attention from the guards on lookout. In the morning she would head back to Falkwreath, and the sanctuary. 

Vilkas was furious. That-that witch had framed him! To save her own thieving hide she’d shoved her loot at him and taken off! It had taken him a second too long to realize what she’d done, so by the time Belethor had sprinted down the stairs he’d been standing there holding a bag full of gold and jewelry like an idiot. Vilkas had to give the woman some credit—everything she’d picked was unremarkable. There was nothing that would be identified, so clearly she knew what she was doing, which should make him like her less. But, against his will, Vilkas felt a small spark of admiration. If he hadn’t interrupted her she probably would’ve been out the door in under two minutes, with loot that she could fence to anyone.

However, that didn’t solve his current problem. After being caught red handed he’d been hauled off to a cell. None of the guards believed that he’d been set up. But due to his position in the Companions he’d been granted an audience with the Jarl in the morning. So he just had to wait until after his meeting and he would be free to track that witch down. She wouldn’t be able to escape him—his superior senses lent themselves well to tracking. The scent of another wolf would not be easy to miss normally, but his wolf’s fascination would make following her as easy as following the trail of twenty horses.


	4. A Cat’s Scent

At first light Enyo booked it out of Whiterun. She hoped that she hadn’t caused Vilkas too much trouble, but she figured the companions would take care of their own. Enyo wasn’t a mage by any means but she knew her way around a spell book and an alchemy station. Before she’d left the Khajiit’s camp, she’d made a potion that would make tracking her impossible for even the most skilled wolf. Enyo wasn’t worried Vilkas would track her, but he would probably be angry and the man didn’t think clearly when he was angry. He decided to do something that would get him killed, like follow her to the sanctuary. The brotherhood, and Astrid in particular, would not take kindly to a companion knowing where their sanctuary was. That was why she stank like cat, a necessary evil. Magic cannot create or destroy, but it can transform. She also kept to the road. Other scents would layer over hers, making it harder to follow the scent. It took a lot longer to get back, but Enyo was back the next morning. Astrid wasn’t happy, and sent Enyo out to raid a crypt right away, a job usually reserved for recruits. 

Vilkas was not happy. It had taken him far too long to convince the Jarl he’d actually been trying to stop a theft, and by that time it had been almost noon. Then, Vilkas had stopped by his room to pack a bag and his brother had entirely too many questions. By the time Vilkas had actually gotten back to Belethor’s the woman’s scent had been almost too faint. But Vilkas followed it to the Khajiit’s camp outside the city walls. The cats had not been friendly. But when Vilkas had walked around the camp he hadn’t been able to get a trail. Her scent stopped in the camp. After an hour Vilkas had realized something—there was a trail after all. The scent of a cat left, following the road. It smelt slightly off. Vilkas had never heard of a way to camouflage scent like that, but he didn’t know much at all about magic or alchemy. He followed the scent, and finally he thought he might be close. It had lead almost directly to Falkwreath, but the as he approached the keep it veered off the road. And to his surprise the woman’s scent came out of where the older trail disappeared into. He was tempted to follow it to the end, but he had the woman’s trail so he supposed it didn’t matter.

Her scent led to a Nordic ruin. He wondered what she was doing, surly there were easier ways to get a little gold?

Enyo hated Nordic ruins. Drauger creeped her out. At least they were stupid, Enyo thought. It was easy not to wake them if a person kept out of their line of sight and didn’t make any noise. Enyo preferred not to deal with them so she generally avoided waking them, which was why the thundered “where are you woman?” woke them all at once.

Vilkas supposed he might have been slightly better off if he had kept his mouth shut, but how was he to know that the little assassin wouldn’t kill any of them? So really, what happened wasn’t his fault. After his shout, all of the drauger in the ruin woke and came running. Vilkas fought them off relatively easily.

After the idiot’s shout had woken the drauger Enyo tried as best she could to kill them off before they realized she was there, but eventually she had to resort to close combat. It wasn’t that she was bad at it, but rather that her wolf liked feeling death up close. Enyo stopped fighting off the change, letting it overtake her quickly. The drauger got in a few slashes while she was doubled over with the force of the change, but with a snarl her wolf make quick work of them. 

After fighting off the drauger, Vilkas ventured farther into the ruins. He had heard the echoes of her wolf, so he should have been prepared for the sight that greeted him. Her wolf was gorgeous—the fur was the ethereal color of her hair and the eyes the same forest, but there was an openness to her wolf that the assassin lacked in her human form. And the lust he saw in the wolf’s eyes called to his own. His wolf suddenly fought to be released and Vilkas let him take partial control. Half changed, Vilkas stocked towards his little assassin. Putting his hand out, he said “give a little of her back to me,” his voice rough, his throat not formed to speak.

She looked at him for a second before arching back and howling. As the echo faded the wolf partially changed back, and she said “I didn’t think you would figure it out.”

Vilkas grabbed her; he was done with talking. Their mouths met, both of them fighting for dominance, neither willing to back down. Vilkas moved down to her neck gently biting down on her neck, not expecting the reaction. She arched and moaned, pushing his head down. Vilkas didn’t think, he just bit down, his sharper teeth cutting through her flesh easily. The scent of blood urged both of their beasts on, and she dragged his face back to hers. Their coupling was savage and intense. Afterwards he fell asleep, and when he woke she was gone, along with all of his gold.

Enyo was not panicking. Not at all. After they had—after she had lain for a second, enjoying the connection between them before realizing what it meant. They had mated in their half forms, and he had bitten her creating a blood bond, a mating bond between them which meant that they could sense each other. He couldn’t get exact thoughts unless she sent them to him but he could get emotions and he would have an awareness of her location relative to his. Mating bonds only happened when the were was half turned because it meant that both sides were in agreement, that both sides of the shifter had control. It figured that after the high that came with a kill her beast wanted to mate with the other wolf but she hadn’t. But Divines be damned she had, so she hadn’t stopped him when she could have. Enyo knew she couldn’t go back to the brotherhood in this state, because Astrid would know something was up and even if she didn’t Arnbjorn would smell it. Then Arnbjorn would demand an answer and she would be forced to give one to her alpha. So she went to Markarth, hoping the journey would clear her head. She had a bolt hole there, and spending a few days there wouldn’t hurt anything. Enyo would make sure it took Vilkas that long to find her, even if her wolf wanted to go back to him immediately. Enyo would have to resign herself to her fate soon. Mates needed each other to survive, and it was both a physical and mental need. Feeling calmer with a destination in mind, Enyo set out.


	5. Chapter 5

A Diversion

Vilkas was in a foul mood. He had awoken to find the woman gone—and he still didn’t even know her name! And now she was his mate. Vilkas knew what would happen and he’d gone ahead anyway. Somewhere deep inside he had wanted it even. But he’d be damned if he let the woman get away from him. He sensed her in the back of his mind, but she was hiding from him though she wasn’t far. Which he would not allow, so he gathered his things and set off after his little assassin.

Enyo knew she needed a better head start if she was going to slow Vilkas down enough to give her a few days. So she did what any assassin would do: she set a trap. Hefting a war axe she’d taken from a drauger Enyo sat in a tree above her pack waiting. It didn’t take Vilkas long to show up. He was cautious, but he didn’t expect a trap. He stood above her pack, and he could tell she was nearby but not exactly where. Enyo had scent-marked enough of the surrounding area to make it confusing. Before he could say anything, Enyo left from the tree and hit him square in the head with the flat side of the axe. He sunk like a stone to the ground. Enyo didn’t waste any time—she doused him with a sleeping potion, grabbed her pack and took off before a minute had passed. She took a roundabout way to Markarth, leading him through a few Forsworn, giant, and bandit camps to slow him down. Enyo figured Vilkas would try to find her through scent rather than using the mating bond, because it was new and still not completely formed. 

This time, when he awoke Vilkas was furious. With a snarl he took off, following her scent trail. An hour later Vilkas realized what the woman had done. This was because the blade of a bandit had taken him by surprise. He hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, focusing solely on his mate’s scent. His anger intensifying, Vilkas set his beast free, slaughtering the entire camp. Still, in beast form, Vilkas continued after his mate.

Enyo felt her mate’s fury, and she could admit that maybe this wasn’t the best way to handle the mating. But she’d be damned if she admitted that to anybody. Instead, she holed up in an abandoned house. Breathing deep, she cleared her mind. Meditating had always helped Enyo sort herself out, and it was a habit the brotherhood encouraged because a calm hand was the deadliest one.

Vilkas hit a Giant’s camp, and more prepared he went around it. Vilkas didn’t kill giants as long as they kept to themselves. Pausing, he scented the air and realized he was close to another camp, this time, a Forsworn one. Vilkas still felt his mate’s steady presence in the back of his mind and pushing he realized that he could feel her physical presence. Smiling grimly, Vilkas set off towards Markarth. Before coming into sight of the city Vilkas shifted back into his human form, dropping his bag. He angrily dressed and stalked into the city, brushing past the guards who recognized him as a companion, letting him pass without comment. Vilkas headed towards a house that appeared to be abandoned.


	6. A Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for now, but comment if you want me to write more!

Enyo felt Vilkas as soon as he entered the house. Enyo slid into the shadows, still unsure about how to handle this. Vilkas had taken much less time then she thought he would: he must have used their bond after all. She kept underestimating him, or at least his intelligence. She shouldn’t be doing that. Enyo was an assassin, in and out. She planned and plotted, strategized and never got caught. So why on earth that damn wolf was catching her Enyo couldn’t figure out. Her wolf hummed You want him to catch you. Enyo ignored the beast, slinking further into the shadows.

She started to pull her dagger out, unsure what her next move was. This really wasn’t like her, she liked the comfort of a solid plan. Shifting, she prepared to strike.

Vilkas entered the house he felt her in. It was obviously abandoned. He scanned the entryway. He didn’t see her so he started to sneak into the next room, while partially shifting. His wolf senses would be much better so he shifted he face. He smelled her scent, knowing she was in the next room. He caught a flash before the dagger sunk into his side, skillfully slanting under his armor. “Damn it woman!” He snarled, grabbing her wrist he twisted until she was forced to drop her dagger. He couldn’t bring himself to actually break her wrist, even knowing it would heal faster than a human’s. Vilkas hauled her up against him and gave her a punishing kiss. He poured all of his frustration into it, biting her lips and savoring the taste of her blood.

Enyo felt his frustration and matched it with hers. She felt him bite her lip and reveled in it. Her wolf was practically glowing with happiness. This was exactly what her wolf wanted—her mate. Her wolf thought they belonged together and she never wanted to leave him again.

When Vilkas pulled away he said, “What the hell is your name. We’re mated and I don’t even know it.”

Enyo’s response was dragged out of her by a greater force, “Enyo of Solitude.” She didn’t know why she had added the last bit but she just knew she wanted him to know she wasn’t a complete monster, that there was some drop of humanity left in her.

Vilkas liked it. It fit her, it seemed as ethereal as her appearance. He fisted his hand in her hair, enjoying the silky feel of it. “We belong together mate. Why did you run?”

“I was scared.” She confessed propelled again by an unseen force.

“I would never hurt you,” Vilkas said.

“Not of you, of our mate bond. And the Brotherhood’s reaction to it. Astrid’s gonna freak out, and Arnbjorn’s.”

“Arnbjorn was once a Companion.”

“He is not anymore. He loves his wife and the taste of blood far too much.” Enyo said matter-of-factly.

“We will work everything out. You will just have to leave the Brotherhood.”

Enyo shook her head, “No one just leaves the Brotherhood.”

“Well my mate cannot be an assassin.”

“You mate is an assassin.” Enyo said dryly.

Vilkas rolled his eyes, “My mate would listen to me.”

Enyo laughed, “Then you chose the wrong mate, brother.”

Vilkas sighed, “My wolf chose you.” He admitted.

“Where do we go from here?” Enyo asked.


End file.
